


In The Dog House

by DancerInTheMoonlight



Series: And They Lived [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Issues, Father-Daughter Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Pancakes, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25557544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancerInTheMoonlight/pseuds/DancerInTheMoonlight
Summary: A small victory is still a victory.They'd all admitted themselves to their doom.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Series: And They Lived [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954504
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	In The Dog House

“You like that, hmm?”

“I— _oh_ —”

“Admit it.”

Whispered words against his skin.

“You’re playing dirty.”

He realized what he’d said. Too late.

“Dirty, you say? I’ll show you _dirty_ …”

“No—no, don’t—” he implored frantically, hands lost between groping for skin under soft cotton fabric and gripping for control. The need for control overruled the siren call of skin on skin; control he desperately needed in order to push them apart, just a fraction. Pausing, the lips withdrew. A small victory. “We’ll make a mess.”

“You want me to.”

Green eyes bore into hazel doused in gold. Expectantly.

“I . . . Ok, fine! Yes, I _want_ you to—”

“Hooray and hallelujah,” fell sarcastically from the lips which blissfully returned to his skin.

“—but we can’t.” 

This time the lips didn’t withdraw. He’d already admitted himself to his doom.

“Why not?” The relentless question was being imprinted into his neck. And answering, answering was beyond comprehension. “The plane’s not landing in at least half an hour, I checked.”

“Yeah but we’ve still got—furniture—to uncover and—and—move around—”

He wondered if this was an opening for another suggestive retort _because yes, his mind was apparently going there_ , even if he did say it to stall this whole mind-bending course of action. But Sebastian turned out to be quite immersed in actual conversation, considering the initial nature of their exchange.

“So? She can sleep on the couch.”

“She’s not sleeping on the couch in her own house!”

Sebastian huffed, dispersing a warm gust of air against his cheek. It tickled.

“One night’s not going to kill her. It’ll be just like all those times we had to drag her away from the couch to bed, only this time we just. . . Leave her there.” Blaine fixed him with a look.

“Maybe I should leave _you_ there.” Sebastian gasped in fake shock.

“Garbo will be delighted to have her side of the bed back,” he deadpanned. “Oh, come on, B. We both know it’s another half a day’s work. We couldn’t make it even if I decidedly stopped trying to convince you to have sex with me instead _and_ you then charmed some of those creepier neighbours who seem to exist only to do your bidding into helping us out.”

They were taking the opportunity to redecorate Alizée’s old room while she was away on holiday in France with Sebastian’s mother and their dog, Garbo.

“I guess you’re right.” He would have to hold his own, despite the very welcome attack. The hands resumed their travels.

“Not that the couch isn’t already a _literal_ doghouse…”

“You’re an ass.”

Those lips only smiled against his own.

“I know. Now stop trying to talk and kiss me.”

* 

Time, however, seemed to be passing considerably faster than they thought possible because, sooner than either of them expected (Sebastian, miraculously, still had all of his clothes on and Blaine had only just started to lose his pants), there was a click of the front door opening, and a familiar voice filled the apartment.

“ _Guuuuys! We’re back_ ,” the voice from below sing-songed as much as it was humanly possible. “ _You can stop being gross now._ ” The scuttle of paws echoed in the background.

They froze, and then Sebastian groaned, gently banging his head a few times on the wall above Blaine’s shoulder, where he had them pinned in the hallway upstairs. Blaine quickly overcame the initial surprise and, now shaking with silent laughter, offered Sebastian a pat on the back.

“ _Hello_?” drawled the voice. There was a heavy thump of something being dropped on the floor.

Sebastian glared at him, but Blaine only raised his hands in a defensive gesture, turning them as if to say _‘all yours’_. He probably looked too smug about it, though, because Sebastian set his jaw and locked their lips in a particularly _plowing_ open-mouthed kiss, the kind that evoked short circuits in the brain for all the blood that rushed elsewhere.

“ _Dad?_ ” The voice took on a slightly worried tone.

“Coming!”

The kiss ended as abruptly as it started, and a complacently unfazed Sebastian peeled himself off Blaine in a heartbeat. He straightened his shirt and bounded down the stairs, (Garbo advancing on him halfway down and then continuing up), leaving Blaine behind dishevelled and, for the moment, irrevocably aroused.

Downstairs, his adoptive daughter beamed at the sight of him, like she always did.

“I thought the plane was la— _Alizée, what happened to your hair_?” Sebastian did a double take, because the girl he’d sent off to spend two weeks with her grandmother had been a distinctly longer mess of golden hair, and the one he was staring at right now was sporting a (still messy) pixie cut.

“ _Surprise!_ ”

She went to hug Sebastian around the waist, peering upwards in an attempt of persuasive cuteness; a move deeply familiar to Sebastian, as he already lived with both Blaine and their dog (whom he sometimes still addressed as _Blaine’s dog)_ , Garbo.

“Don’t you like it?” she prompted coyly.

“I love it.” He kissed the top of her golden head. “Just don’t think of getting any tattoos or weird piercings until you’re legal.” She snorted and let him go.

“Anyway, how was your flight? Why didn’t you call me, or Blaine, we would’ve—”

“Because we thought we’d surprise you.”

“Who’s we?”

Sebastian’s queries fell silent at the sight of tall, slender figure which emerged silently from the living room area.

“Mother.”

“Hello, Sebastian.”

“Wh-what are _you_ doing here?” he blurted out the first thing on his mind. Since she lived a couple of states away, his mother wasn’t exactly a fixture in Sebastian’s apartment. And she wasn’t exactly a fixture in Sebastian’s life, either, since Sebastian was of the opinion she also lived a couple of years away, as well. Back in the day when his sister was still among the living and Sebastian wasn’t openly involved with another man.

He thought he was allowed the benefit of cautious curiosity, if anything.

The woman he called his mother was looking at him with guarded eyes; a rare species, willing to reach out but prepared to make a break for it if need be.

“I needed to see your father over some legal affairs and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to . . . see you.” Sebastian’s level of confusion must have shown on his face, because she was beginning to lose her nerve. “Unless, of course, this is a terrible time– it’s silly of me, to just barge in on you when—”

“No, it’s—”

“—didn’t even call, I know how busy you are—”

“Actually—” Sebastian tried to cut in but her nerves got the better of her.

“— _truly,_ I am—”

“ _Mom_.”

She stopped her ramblings, bracing herself for the final judgement.

“It’s ok,” Sebastian voiced clearly. “Just a little . . . unexpected.”

His mother let out a breath and gave a small shrug as if it wasn’t something she could hope to control.

“See? Told you he’d be fine with it,” said Alizée, who crept up to her grandmother’s side much the same way Sebastian used to, whenever him and Marcy had an argument. His sister was always daddy’s little sweetheart but, more often than not, Sebastian had had his mom to back him up.

Up until the divorce, anyway. Neither of them had any parents to rely on after that, in Sebastian’s general opinion.

“ _Mémé’s_ never seen our place, and since I’ve seen hers, it seemed only fair to extend the invitation,” Alizée explained somewhat formally, as if it was her duty to state an official reason for such an anomaly as was his mother’s visit. Sebastian was sure there was also a real reason hidden somewhere in there, and was not disappointed. “Also, your birthday’s coming up and I thought grandma should visit. Consider it a surprise birthday present,” she announced with a grin that was a bit on the sly side.

“Wow, you’ve truly outdone yourself this year,” Sebastian replied, but without malice. “Any more surprises I should be aware of? Have you changed your name to something less European while you were away? Got another dog? . . .”

“Who’s got another dog?”

“Blaine!”

Blaine chose this moment to arrive down the stairs, Garbo on his heels. Alizée charged towards him and jumped into his arms, as he spun them around with gained momentum, proceeding to cling to him like an oversized koala-bear.

“ _Oof_ – you know you’re getting a bit big for this, Al-Pal,” Blaine commented and Alizée huffed, but let him go. “And I _love_ your new hair,” he added, ruffling her blonde curls and messing up her already messy hair-do even more. Out of the two of them, Blaine was always more likely to take these surprise changes in stride; unlike Sebastian, in whose peculiar case of downright obsession with Alizée’s hair this was the only way a change could have ever been made. Suddenly and unexpectedly.

Blaine raised his head to meet the two pairs of eyes watching the interaction in silence. Briefly lingering on the familiar green ones, he settled for the pair of greyish-blues, and nodded.

“Berenice.”

“Blaine,” she inclined her head politely.

Sebastian noticed that, oddly, Blaine had changed his shirt.

“Quite a surprise,” Blaine said, sounding like it wasn’t surprising at all. “I trust you had a pleasant flight?”

“Oh, yes. Time literally flew in good company,” Sebastian’s mother replied glancing at her granddaughter. “And your dog is very well behaved,” she added.

Blaine practically swelled with pride but tried to tone it down. Sebastian thought this was altogether a remarkably civil exchange between Blaine and his mother. Considering—

“That reminds me,” Blaine turned to Sebastian with a somewhat guilty expression. “I think she could do with a walk. We won’t be long.”

Before Sebastian could reply, Blaine again addressed his mother.

“You’re staying for dinner, right?”

“Well, I—”

“Oh, _mémé_ , you must!” Alizée turned to Blaine and Sebastian. “Can we have crêpes? Grandma told me how it was the first thing you ever learned to cook, and I told her it was our Sunday tradition.”

“Alright. If it’s ok with you,” Berenice looked at Sebastian, who just shrugged without commitment.

“That’s settled, then,” Blaine quipped, sounding rather pleased with himself. “Al, why don’t you go and prepare everything till I get back?”

Alizée did a small victory jump and then started towards their open kitchen, pulling her grandmother behind her (“Kitchen’s this way—just wait, Blaine makes the _perfect_ crêpes– I think there’s even some Marnier somewhere. . .”).

“You’ve unleashed the Pancake Monster,” Sebastian muttered, even as they both smiled fondly at the said monster’s retreating figure.

“Yeah, just make sure she doesn’t wander upstairs before I return,” said Blaine. “I want to see her face.”

“Noted,” Sebastian replied, eyes travelling to the kitchen once more.

It was strange, seeing his mother at their kitchen counter, discussing pots and pans and ingredients with a 12-year-old Marcy look-alike, minus the hair and the general lack of his sister’s culinary skills.

It was strange, seeing her there at all, about to stay for dinner, considering she’d been pretty vocal on Sebastian’s lifestyle on several occasions in the past, the main issue being the fact that Sebastian was involved and living with another man.

A man who apparently wanted her to stay over, even though they met only a handful of times, none of which turned out particularly pleasant, in Sebastian’s opinion.

It was strange, to say the least.

His mother’s eyes kept finding their way to him and Blaine.

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Blaine attempted to sound non-committal, but there it was again. So _that’s_ where the smugness and the guilty expression came from.

And the shirt. Blaine must have _known_ about this little impromptu family visit in advance. Hell, he might have even orchestrated it.

Still, Sebastian needed to make sure. He couldn’t afford to go over the same argument with his mother again, not when they’d finally found some inner peace.

He eyed Blaine suspiciously, but Blaine went to collect his jacket and Garbo’s leash. He waited for Blaine to get ready to leave, and then stopped him loudly on the way out.

“Wait, I forgot something!”

“Yeah?” Blaine turned.

“This.”

And with that, he pulled Blaine into a smooch bordering on obscenity, in clear view from the kitchen. When they broke apart, after an interval which seemed to tiptoe all available lines of inappropriate, Blaine was blushing furiously but rolled his eyes, clearly amused.

“Very mature, Sebastian,” he said, albeit with a conspiratorial smile.

Leaning in close, Sebastian couldn’t help a conspiratorial smile of his own, even if the original conspiracy was debatable. He’d already admitted himself to his doom.

“ _Go walk your dog_.”

  



End file.
